


my skin carried the ether

by blackkat



Series: Horoscope Drabbles [29]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Amazons - Freeform, F/F, Quests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 07:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17361809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: She’s out of arrows, but the top of the mountain is in sight.





	my skin carried the ether

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Normal Horoscopes on Tumblr:
> 
> Scorpio: You will succeed where your sisters failed. Fight through the burns, through the lost and forgotten. You have already sacrificed so much.

She’s out of arrows, but the top of the mountain is in sight.

Wiping the blood from her mouth, Rin staggers up the last few feet of trail, onto the plateau that crowns the peak. The path from here isn't worn earth, but marble, pale and veined with gold, stark contrast to the trail of bodies and lost souls Rin has left behind her. She can still feel their eyes, hear the whispering hisses of forgotten armies, their champions fallen at her hands. The adrenaline and leashed fury has left her shaking, and there's an edge of pain to each movement, the threat of exhaustion about to pull her down, but Rin keeps moving.

No one thought she would make it this far, and even if she hasn’t reached the temple yet, getting here feels like a victory all its own.

Slinging her bow over her shoulder, still strung—on the edge of sacrilege, maybe, but surely a warrior goddess will make allowances—Rin stumbles, catches herself on a column, and straightens, steadying her steps carefully. Her fingers feel raw from the bowstring, and her left hand feels like it’s frozen around the hilt of her sword, but she shakes her hands out as she mounts the steps, grabs the bar of the great temple door, and hauls it open with a cry of grim effort, every muscle burning.

Inside, the temple is dark stone and silver and crimson, every line perfect. It’s a regal place, but warm, and the heat of the great fire washes over Rin like a welcome, fighting back the snow’s chill. Here the white marble turns to black, though the threads of gold remain; they twist together, shape strange signs and seals in the flagstones and draw the eye towards the throne that waits, looming in the shadows.

There's a goddess waiting, too, watching Rin with violet eyes.

“Lady Mito,” Rin says, and takes a breath. Takes another, a third, until she’s sure she isn't about to fall to her knees.

“Warrior,” Mito returns, and she’s smiling, just a little. “You have fought your way up my mountain where a hundred before you have failed.”

Rin saw the bodies, faced the souls who didn’t make it to the peak. She raises her chin, squares her shoulders; she knows precisely what she’s managed, and she’ll never let anyone take that from her. “Need drove me, my lady. The world falls to ruin, and I’m going to stop it.”

The goddess’s laughter isn't mocking, but warm. She rises, descends the steps in a sweep of white and blue-green robes, the gold of her crown like fire in the darkness. Rin stands where she is as she approaches, because conquering the mountain gives her the right to stand instead of kneel, and Mito doesn’t seem to mind. She’s smiling when she reaches out, catching Rin's battered hands, and she gently, carefully raises each one to her lips in turn.

“The world of man,” Mito says, amused. “And you would save them, even where your sisters failed?”

Rin thinks of the boys from beyond the island, washed up on the shores still clinging to each other, their desperation to return and hep end the fighting. “I have to try,” she says honestly.

Mito's fingers brush the burns on her arms, the bloody scrapes, the cuts, and the pain fades. “You defeated my armies to make it here,” she says. “Take them with you as you descend.” She leans in, mouth curving, and it’s challenge and temptation and benediction all at once. “Take my blessing, as well.”

Her mouth is soft and forge-fire hot and tastes of blood and victory, and Rin kisses her back as if it’s the last real thing in the world, as if she’s never going to come up for air.

The world is waiting to be conquered, a hundred years of war ended where no one else has managed. Undead armies under Rin's command, the blessing of a war-goddess on her head, and this, one moment of immortality on her tongue and seared into her veins.

“I've been forgotten,” Mito murmurs against her lips, and her eyes are warm and faintly wicked. “Even other gods like Madara have forgotten me in the midst of their wars. Why don’t we remind them why they shouldn’t have, my sweet?”

Rin laughs, and it’s as heady and hungry as victory. “My goddess,” she agrees, and Mito kisses her again.


End file.
